


One Forever

by wildwinterwitch



Series: Sanctuary Verse [9]
Category: Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-02-24
Updated: 2013-02-24
Packaged: 2017-12-03 11:32:17
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,717
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/697803
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wildwinterwitch/pseuds/wildwinterwitch
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Christmas at the Tylers'.</p>
            </blockquote>





	One Forever

Rose was leaning against the doorframe, arms crossed in front of her, but she was smiling. The tie hung from the foot of the bed, his shoes lay discarded in an untidy heap beneath it. The Doctor sat, long legs stretched out, next to the small lump that was Tony's curled up form beneath the covers. The Doctor was leaning against the headboard, his hand resting on Tony's soft blond hair, and he was dozing. His glasses were askew on the ridge of his nose, and the book from which he had been reading Tony his bedtime story had slipped from his limp fingers.

She slipped out of her sandals and crept into her brother's room in stocking feet, carefully picking her way around both his shoes and the Doctor's. When she was by the Doctor's side, she gently took off his glasses, a well-practised gesture now, and put them on the bedside table, next to the model of some comic-book space rocket. Then she picked up and closed the book from the Doctor's lap, and put it away.

For a while she just stood, watching him. It was still unusual to see him sleep, even half a year into his Human life. It had taken him long enough to get used to a sleeping pattern; he had even been afraid of sleep, for all the nightmares that lurked in the darkest corners of his mind. It had only been when Donna had returned the coral from the TARDIS to him that he had been able to sleep undisturbed.

Rose bent to kiss his eyebrow. He stirred slightly, sighing.

“Doctor?” Rose whispered, resting her hand on his chest.

His smile, when he woke, was gorgeous. “Rose,” he whispered back.

“It's time for bed.”

The Doctor extricated himself as carefully as he could from the possessive arm Rose's brother had thrown across his midriff, picked up his tie and shoes and followed Rose into the hall after he had switched off the reading lamp. The rest of the house lay in darkness as he followed Rose to their room on the far side of the Tyler Mansion, where the guest rooms were. He wrapped his arm around her as they went, and again he noticed how much smaller she was when she was not wearing heels.

“Did it take him long to go to sleep?” Rose asked, closing the door behind her. “I remember being very excited on Christmas Eve.”

“No, I guess our walk this afternoon exhausted him quite a bit,” he replied. He had taken Tony for a long, extended walk so the Christmas preparations could go on undisturbed, and, truth be told, he was glad to get away from his ready-made family for a while. Doing domestic was still something that he felt he wasn't particularly good at, and being bossed around by Jackie certainly was as domestic as it could get. Sometimes he wondered how Pete did it; it was probably a special kind of humour, and the ability not to take everything very serious. A quality, the Doctor found, which he still had to work on.

“Oh,” Rose said, “what about you then? Are you exhausted?” She dropped her sandals on the floor, which was made from beautiful dark polished wood. The Doctor's shoes cluttered down beside hers as he closed the distance between them.

“I don't know,” he said, pulling her towards him. “You tell me.”

His lips descended on hers, and he brushed them gently over them, tickling her, teasing her, but then she caught him and pressed her lips firmly on his. He deepened the kiss, groaning and pulling her closer to him.

“You taste delicious,” he murmured when they had to come up for air.

“Of what?” Rose whispered, pulling the tails of his chocolate-coloured shirt from the waistband of his trousers.

“Mm,” the Doctor mused, “I'm not sure. Let me see.” He captured her lips again, this time delving into her without further ado. One of his hands travelled upwards to cup the back of her head, while the other stayed where it was, on her back, fanned out over the cream-coloured silk for support.

“Red wine,” he mumbled against her lips, “and... Rose.”

He could feel her hands sliding beneath the fabric of his shirt, and he shivered as her hands travelled up the sides and back of his torso. Then he lifted his arms so Rose could tuck the shirt up and over his head. There was such a thing as no times for buttons. And this shirt had quite a few buttons. Small buttons. And it was a new shirt, no less.

Rose's hands travelled down his chest once she had dropped the shirt onto the floor. All playfulness was gone from her eyes when she raised her gaze from his chest to meet his eyes.

“What is it, Rose?” the Doctor asked softly, dropping his hands to her waist.

“I'm just so grateful you're here,” Rose said. “I'd never... thought I'd have you with me again, for Christmas.”

“But you came looking for me,” he replied.

Rose laughed softly. “I never told anyone,” she began, “but there were times, quite often, when I... when I was this close to... to...” She averted her gaze.

The Doctor cupped her face, gently kissing her forehead. “I know, Rose. It's over now.”

“But I shouldn't,” Rose persisted. “I shouldn't even have had those thoughts.”

“No one knew,” the Doctor said. And froze. That was exactly the point she was trying to make. During all this time, when she had been trying to find a way of returning to him, she had been alone with this. She had to be so strong for him, for the others, to keep up morale and faith in what they were doing. And no one had probably ever asked her how she was doing it. She was just being Rose, his beautiful, determined, strong Rose.

“Yeah,” Rose breathed.

“Oh Rose,” the Doctor sighed, and pulled her up against his chest, a comforting embrace now, the one he hoped he was good at giving, and not only for his own sake. They stood like that for a while, until he felt Rose move, until he felt her kiss his chest and collarbone and throat, whatever bit of his skin she could reach, and he closed his eyes and let the sensation of her soft lips and tongue on his skin wash over him. He shivered under her caresses, particularly when she started, once again, to map out the landscape of his back with her fingertips. He sighed and moaned softly when she brushed over the small of his back.

“Let me do this for you, my love,” he whispered, stepping out of her embrace. When she had nodded her approval, he circled her, dragging the pads of his fingers across her stomach as he went, over her bare arm, and lowered the zip of her dress, showering her shoulders with little kisses as he went. He pushed the straps of her dress down her shoulders before he parted the opening to slide the luxurious material off her creamy skin. Rose stood still, unmoving, her head turned sideways. Her eyes were closed, her gaze turned inward now. She jumped a little as the silk rustled to the floor in one liquid caress.

The Doctor once again felt what doing without a respiratory bypass meant , but he had come to appreciate the sensation, and the pounding of his single heart in his chest. “You are so beautiful.” Then he picked her up swiftly, and, bracing himself on the mattress with one knee, carefully laid her down in the middle of the bed. She was only in her lace knickers and stockings now, and the flush that washed over her skin at his gaze was the sweetest thing he had ever seen.

“You are overdressed, Doctor,” she said, sitting up.

He nodded, unable to say anything, and quickly discarded his socks and trousers. He joined her on the bed, kneeling, facing her, very much like they had when they had first made love after their arrival in this universe.

Rose reached out and kissed him tenderly at first, her lips teasing, before her kiss turned into something more passionate, needy almost. He drew her towards him, and, grabbing the back of one of her knees, gently laid her back into the pillows. She did nothing to stop him, especially when he started to map out her body with his lips and tongue and hands. He loved how she moved beneath him, twisting and turning to show him where she enjoyed his caresses most, and most of the time, her wish was his command.

She arched into him with a strangled cry as he dipped his tongue into her navel.

He laughed, resting his cheek against her stomach so he could watch her. She had thrown her head back, and her fists were twisted into the soft material of the sheets. The Doctor moved quickly to kiss the little mole on the underside of her chin, and drew his lips across her jawline.

“Doctor,” Rose whispered.

“I'm here,” he replied, grazing her jaw with his teeth, careful not to hurt her.

“I love you, Doctor,” Rose said. “I love you so much it hurts.”

The Doctor felt light-headed. “I don't want it to hurt, I don't want you to hurt because of me,” he replied.

She opened her eyes to look at him, and again he was surprised how dark they turned when she was making love to him. But instead of saying anything, she drew him towards her by the neck and kissed him so deeply that he became dizzy. He pushed his knee between her legs once more, and as his thigh brushed her knickers, he could feel how much she needed him.

The Doctor withdrew to pull off her stockings and knickers, and got rid of his pants in the process as well. Rose grabbed for the silver packet of the condom that they kept tucked under the pillows, and handed it to him. He took it, but put it on the pillow next to her. “Not just yet, Rose,” he whispered. He stretched out on his side next to her, and pulled her close, hooking her left leg over his thigh in the process. “Help me here,” he whispered, her hair tickling his lips as he whispered the invitation very close to her ear. It was all he could do to distract himself from the feeling of her backside pressed against his erection.

His fingers found their way through her damp curls, and soon enough he could feel her fingers joining his, dancing with his as they dipped and curled and stroked, and when Rose twisted away from him, he drew her against his chest, letting her go when she needed to, catching her as she soared the heights of her pleasure. Rose cried out, in a sob almost, and the Doctor pulled her even closer, whispering for her to enjoy to the full, that he loved her, that he was there for her. Whether he did so in English or in his native tongue he wasn't sure, but by then he knew that Rose knew what he was whispering to her, that sometimes all she needed was the sound of his voice.

He let go of her to grab the silver packet, ripped it open, and put on the condom.

“Doctor,” Rose finally said, still trying to catch her breath.

“I'm here, Rose,” he said, putting the smile into his voice. Rose turned in his arms, and he kissed the corner of her mouth.

“Make love to me like this, please?” she asked. Her leg was still hooked over his hip, and he grabbed it firmly as he positioned himself at her entrance. But as he pushed into her, slowly, gently, he found that he had a better angle if their knees were on the mattress, and changed their position. He threaded his fingers through hers, and she kissed their joined hands. “This is divine,” she purred as he moved inside her.

“Oh yes,” he sighed.

They were both still for a while before the Doctor set up a gentle rhythm, nipping and kissing her shoulder and the back of her neck as he covered her with his body, as if to shelter it from the outside world. Rose began to meet his thrusts, arching away from him for the perfect angle, and when her body went stiff at one point and she didn't even breathe for a beat or two, he knew that he had found that deeply hidden spot within her that could give her so much pleasure. One more stroke, two, three, and then he could feel her muscles close firmly around him as she came, taking him with her.

Their joint cries were still ringing in his ears, sounding as if they were coming from a distance, when he remembered he had to leave her. His heart was still racing, and the blood was rushing in his ears as he slid out of her to clean up. He drew her back against him, and as he did so, he noticed that her shoulders were shaking.

“Are you... Rose? Are you all right?” he asked anxiously.

Rose turned in his arms, and when she looked at him, it was obvious that she was crying. His heart constricted.

“Rose?”

“I'm all right, Doctor,” Rose whispered, laughing. “It was just... so overwhelming. I'll be all right in a minute. Just hold me, will you?”

The Doctor had learned that sometimes he just had to trust Rose, particularly when tears were involved. It didn't mean that the tears were becoming anything good. He hated it when she cried, and still found it difficult to deal with what he called 'good tears'. To him, crying had only ever been a way of expressing anguish and grief, but never anything good.

“I love you, Rose Tyler,” he said.

Rose laughed, sniffling. “I love you, too. Merry Christmas.”

“Oh!”

“What?”

“Is it Christmas already?”

“It was when I woke you,” she replied, smiling.

He rolled over to his side of the bed, opening the drawer of his bedside table, and fished for the black velvet box that was now sporting a red bow. He turned back to Rose and gave the box to her. “Merry Christmas, Rose.”

Rose sat up, holding the small black box carefully in both hands. The Doctor moved to rest his head in her lap and looked up at her as she opened the box.

“Oh.”

She kept staring at the ring for far longer than he felt comfortable with.

“Do you like it?” he asked anxiously.

Rose plucked the ring from the slit in the foam that held the ring, and slipped it onto her finger. It fit perfectly, the Doctor noticed to his satisfaction.

“It's beautiful!” Rose breathed. Then she froze. “Doctor?”

“Yes?”

“Is this... ?” she began.

And then it dawned on him. He sat up with a start, flushing a deep deep red.

“Oh, Rose, it's... “ he began, flustered.

“Is this just a ring?” she asked, the tip of her tongue in the corner of her mouth. Her eyes were sparkling in the dim light of the room.

“It's...” he began sheepishly, “yes, it's just a ring. Is... did you... “

“It's perfect, Doctor, thank you,” she whispered, trailing her fingers over the small stone.

“Did you want it to be something else?” he asked in a very small voice. It was only now that he realised why the shop assistant had smiled so broadly as he had picked out the ring, probably with a grin all the way to the moon and back on his face. His heart was pounding in his chest. Again. And this time he was not entirely sure if he liked it.

“No, no, Doctor, I don't want it to be anything else,” Rose smiled, admiring the ring, moving her hand this way and that so she could see all the colours the stone was able to catch in the light. “Thank you.”

“It's my promise never to leave you again,” the Doctor eventually managed.

“It's our tangible forever,” Rose said, emphasising the pronoun.


End file.
